On our journey we met several ships and steamers, and as the captain never missed an opportunity of signalling, the course of our voyage was known from various quarters. First, the number of the Hampshire, JNBV, is displayed by the flags, each flag representing a letter. A complete code of arbitrary signals is in use, by which almost any intelligence can be interchanged. We then told the port we sailed from, London, and our destination, Melbourne. From one barque, the County of Anglesea, on her way from Cardiff to Rangoon, which we fell in with early on the voyage, the captain came on board the Hampshire to lunch, and afterwards several of our passengers returned the visit. One of them brought back a small cur, which made the fourth dog on board--rather too many, as they were always in the way. Their number was soon reduced 50 per cent. One day what was known as the "sailor's dog" mysteriously disappeared. Some thought it had been thrown overboard, but it probably fell over accidentally, as the dog was universally held to be the least objectionable. Another, the strange dog, had to be poisoned. On the 10th January we met a German ship bound for Barbadoes from Buenos Ayres. Here an opportunity for sending letters was gratefully embraced. The captain promised to hand them over to the British Consul at Barbadoes. One day, during a calm, the boats were lowered, and several of us rowed about to look at the Hampshire from a little distance, while some bathed in a tropical sea. There was no danger of sharks, which keep away when several bathe together, or even one, if he splashes about enough. The boatswain caught a turtle, from which we had some capital soup. Turtles are very tenacious of life. A knife was thrust into its throat, and its jugular vein severed, but if it had not been cut up soon after it would have lived many hours. Indeed, the heart alone kept beating long after it was severed from the body.